Moon Called (27 page)

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Authors: Patricia Briggs

BOOK: Moon Called
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That was nature's balance to the role of the dominant wolf. As strong as the instinct of wolves to follow those who were dominant, was the instinct of dominants to protect those weaker than themselves.

“All lone wolves aren't deviants,” protested Connor.

David smiled. “Thank you. But werewolves need packs. It takes something stronger to keep them away. A few are like me, we hate what we are too much to live within a pack. Most of them, though, are outcasts, men the pack wouldn't accept.”

His smile changed, grew bleak. “I have my pack, Connor. It's just not a pack of werewolves—” He looked at me. “I left the other members of our team with Gerry to keep an eye on the situation there. There are six of us. A small pack, but it works for me. Most wolves who live very long outside of a pack go a little crazy. Mercenaries are a little the same way. A mercenary who only works alone usually does so because no one else will work with him because he's stupid or crazy—and the stupid ones are mostly dead.”

“Not someone I'd want to meet as a werewolf,” I said, as my phone rang. “Excuse me a minute,” I said, and fished around in my pockets for my cell, which had miraculously escaped damage.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mercy!”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom,” I said. “Can I call you back? I'm a little busy right now.”

“Your sister has just told us she's engaged . . .” said my mother, blithely ignoring me. So I sat and listened to her chatter about my siblings and my stepfather while three mercenaries sat in my living room and watched me.

“Mom,” I said, when she showed signs of slowing down. “Mom, I have company over.”

“Oh, good!” she said. “I was worried about you all alone on Thanksgiving. Is it Warren and that nice young man of his? I hope he keeps this one. Do you remember the last one? Easy on the eyes, I must say, but he wasn't someone you could have a conversation with, was he?”

“No, Mom,” I said. “These are new friends. But I have to go, or they're going to feel like I'm ignoring them.”

I hung up the phone gently a few minutes later.

“I forgot today was Thanksgiving,” David said, but I couldn't tell if it bothered him or not.

“I've been thinking about these drug experiments, sir,” said Connor. “Most men who are trying to assassinate a ruler intend to set themselves up instead.”

“These are werewolves,” his grandfather said. “Not humans. Gerry could never be Marrok. Oh, he's a dominant—but I doubt he'd ever be strong enough to be Alpha of any pack, let alone all the packs. He knows that.”

“But does he like it?” asked Connor. “Have you watched him among his wolves? Did you notice that the mercenaries he has who are still human show signs of being dominant? He tells them that he can't risk losing them right now—but I think he's being cautious. He doesn't like it when you give his wolves orders and they obey.”

“He can't change what he is,” said David, but not like he was disagreeing.

“No, sir. But he has Adam under his control now, doesn't he? Between finding the right combination of drugs and Adam's daughter, he could have Adam under his control all the time.”

David tilted his head, then shook it. “It wouldn't work. Not for long. An Alpha would kill himself fighting before he'd submit for very long. He'd defeat the drugs or die.”

I wasn't so certain. I don't think anyone knew exactly how the drug cocktails would work—not even Gerry, who had been experimenting with new wolves and not powerful ones like Adam.

“It doesn't matter what we think. Could Gerry believe they would work on Adam?” asked John-Julian.

For some reason, they looked at me, but all I could do was shrug. “I don't know Gerry. He didn't spend much time with the pack, and he traveled a lot with his job.” I hesitated. “Bran wouldn't put a stupid person in a position like that.”

David nodded. “I never thought Gerry was stupid before this. But that bloodbath has had me rethinking my opinions.”

“Look,” I said. “I'd love to discuss Gerry, but why don't you tell me what you are doing here and what you want from me first.”

“I still don't like what Bran's doing,” David rumbled. “Not at all. But I like what Gerry is doing even less.”

“Gerry asked us to deliver the boy's body to your doorstep,” explained John-Julian. “He said that you needed a warning to stay out of wolf business. We met him back at the house he was using for headquarters and that was when we found out that he'd kidnapped Adam's daughter and left three of his wolves to die.”

“You don't leave your men behind,” said Connor.

“You don't attack the innocents,” John-Julian told me. It sounded like a creed.

David gave me a half smile. “And, though I think Bran needs to be brought up short, only a fool would think he could get Adam to move a step he doesn't choose to. I'd leave Gerry to learn his lesson, but our honor is at stake. We don't hurt the innocents—so we're getting Adam and his daughter away tonight.”

“They have Adam?” It wasn't really a surprise. What
else could have kept the pack away from phones all day? It was even a relief to know because there had been a dozen other, worse things that had occurred to me.

What did come as a surprise was the door opening, though I hadn't sensed anyone on my front porch. Samuel, back in his human shape, let himself into my house. He was wearing only jeans. Even his feet were bare, and he limped a little as he came to me. “They have Adam,” he confirmed.

I might not have heard him or smelled him, but David didn't look surprised. He'd made a subtle gesture that kept his men where they were—though I could see they were tense and ready to act.

“David Christiansen, meet Dr. Samuel Cornick,” I said. “Samuel, this is David, Adam's old army buddy. He's here to get Adam and Jesse out.”

“So I heard,” Samuel said, sitting down on the couch next to my feet.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“We got to the address we had for the other wolves and found a few signs, but nothing definite. We wandered around quite a while before Darryl realized the reason Adam wasn't recalling us from the hunt was because he was gone, along with his car. Someone saw him with a cell phone—which he didn't have when we left Warren's house. Several wolves noticed the car drive away, but no one thought to question Adam.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, because I was getting a very bad feeling. “Wait a minute. The vampires would have checked out the address—Bran says there's nothing more paranoid than a vampire. They'd have made certain there were wolves where they were supposed to be, don't you think? Even just to make certain that it was wolves who'd come. But when half our pack shows up, they can't find enough scent to track the others?” I looked at David. “And when Mac's body was left on my porch, I couldn't scent anyone else who shouldn't have been there—I didn't smell you.” I hunched my shoulders. “I should have realized it then,
shouldn't I? It's not just Gerry, is it?” I saw Samuel stiffen and remembered he hadn't known. “Gerry Wallace is working with our witch.”

There were a lot of witches who could sterilize a body so that not even the keenest nose, or the best-equipped, best-trained forensics team could find a clue. But Elizaveta Arkadyevna was one of the few witches who could have removed the scent of David and his men without removing the scent of Adam's house.

“There's a Russian witch,” David said.

“If the wolf packs come out into the open, witches will lose a lot of business,” I said. “Staying hidden bears a high price—and the witches are some of the people who benefit. I'm not even certain it would be a breach of contract, not as long as Gerry wants to make Adam the Marrok.”

“What?” Samuel's voice was so quiet it made me nervous.

“Gerry doesn't want the wolves to be made public,” I explained. “He decided Adam is the only one who can prevent it—by killing Bran.”

He held up a hand, his eyes cool as they watched the other men. “I think that Mr. Christiansen should tell me what he believes is happening.” So Samuel could see if he was lying or not. Samuel was one of the wolves who could do that.

David knew it, too, I could see it in his smile. “Gerry Wallace told me that Bran was abandoning his people. He asked me if I would speak to Adam and see if I could get him to object.”

“Meaning fight the Marrok for leadership,” clarified Samuel.

“Yes. To that end he flew me and my boys out here. I was
surprised
at the method he chose. I would not have brought armed men to confront an Alpha in his own home—but I could not object more strongly without a fight that would have left me in charge of Gerry's wolves—and a sadder bunch of wolves you've never seen. I knew that Adam was capable of defending himself, so I went along with it.”

David shrugged. “Talking to Ms. Thompson, we've pretty much decided that Gerry intended that blood be spilled because the wolves who died would have been trouble for him. I think he intended blackmail rather than talk from the beginning.”

Samuel inclined his head. “He knows Adam. Adam wouldn't challenge my father—even if he disagreed with what Bran was doing. He doesn't want to be Marrok.”

“He doesn't know Adam very well if he thinks he can control him by threatening his daughter,” said David.

“I think you're wrong,” I said. “I think Adam would do anything to save Jesse.”

“You all sound as if it is a given that Adam would kill my father.”

I considered that. “Gerry's the one who believes it. Maybe he intends to do something to ensure Bran's death. He still thinks that he's the only one who knows about the tranquilizers.”

Samuel growled, and I patted him on the top of the head. The back of the couch wasn't as comfortable as the seat—but I liked being taller than the two werewolves. Samuel pulled my hand down to his shoulder and held it there.

“So why did you come here?” he asked David. “Couldn't you find Adam's pack?”

“I wasn't looking for the pack,” David said. “Gerry's got Adam drugged to the gills. I went in to talk to him and he almost tore through his chains. From what he said, he thinks he's got a traitor in his pack—I think he's right. I suspect that's how they took him. Even so, I think the drug is making him more paranoid. Getting him out safely with his human child is going to require his cooperation.

“He doesn't trust me—and I'm sorry to say he has reason.” He looked at Samuel. “I don't think he'll trust you either—not another male when his daughter is there.” He turned back to me. “But you have his scent all over your van, and he has a picture of you in his bedroom.”

Samuel gave me a sharp look. “In his bedroom?”

It was news to me, too. But I was more worried about Adam and Jesse than a picture.

“All right,” I said. “Where are they holding him?”

 

With two exceptions, Samuel didn't seem to have a problem letting David make all the plans. First, Samuel insisted on calling in the wolf pack—though he agreed they were only to be backup, waiting a few minutes away. Only Darryl would know what was up, until the very last minute.

He also insisted on calling his father and telling him what we knew.

“Adam won't fight him,” Samuel told David's frozen face. “I know he doesn't like coming out, but he understands my father's reasons.” He sighed. “Look, none of us are happy about it, not even the Marrok. But my father has had several wolves report that one of the government agencies is threatening them with exposure if they won't cooperate.”

Some expression crossed David's face too quickly for me to read, but Samuel nodded. “I wondered if someone had talked to you, too. The others were all military. We've become an open secret—and that's not safe. Frankly, I'm surprised that Bran's managed to keep us hidden this long. I thought that once the public accepted the fae they'd discover all of us.”

“They didn't want to know,” I said. “Most of them like their safe little world.”

“What will your father do to Grandpa?” asked Connor.

Samuel raised his eyebrows. “I can't think of anything he's done wrong. He's sworn no oaths to Bran or anyone else—nor done anything to betray our secrets. Just the opposite.”

My cell phone rang again—it was Bran. That werewolf was uncanny. “Mercedes, let me speak to my son.”

I looked at Samuel, and said, “He's not here. I told you earlier that I haven't heard from him since last night.”

“Enough games,” Bran told me. “Give the phone to Samuel.”

Raising my eyebrows at David Christiansen and his men, I handed the phone over and listened to Samuel explain matters. Bran had probably heard the lie in my voice when I told him Samuel wasn't here. Probably. But David, who had heard both sides of the conversation, was going to be forever convinced that the Marrok
knew
that Samuel was sitting beside me.

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